Diet Fail

Three days past my deadline of "stop eating and start moving", and I am already failing. Why? Well, here are my excuses.

1. I am terrible at diets.

Or beer.

I'm always someone that says "never go on a diet! You're setting yourself up to fail! Just work on making healthier choices every day!" Then, not long after that, I do not heed my own advice and I do the exact opposite. And I fail.

I try to make healthy choices, but I tend to go through phases. I'll eat really well and exercise a lot for a few weeks, then I'll fall off the wagon and be an obese sloth for a bit. That could be an exaggeration. Making the switch to a healthier lifestyle (like, 90% healthy eating) has been difficult for me... but, who isn't it difficult for? Plus, once I "fall off the wagon" I tend to just throw caution to the wind and shove all of the food down my gullet. "Well, I already failed so why not FAIL HARDER?!"

Dreams really do come true.

2. It is summer.
And all I want to do is float in my raft, the USS Awesomesauce, with some sort of alcoholic beverage in the cup holder. I want to sit next to a lake. I want to sit on a beach. I want to sit in my yard and watch my mom make me giant-ass burgers.

Speaking of giant-ass burgers, not only do I want to sit on my ass next to some body of water but I also want to eat every single typical summer food item possible. It's like I'm coming out of hibernation from what seems like 9 months of New England winter and have finally reached my Utopian paradise filled with fruity drinks, burgers, hot dogs, BBQ, pasta salad, potato salad, lobster, ice cream, margaritas... etc. And I am on a mission to eat all of it. Anyone who has been to King Kone in Merrimack, NH, will know that you must consume as many ice cream cones as you can before summer ends.

Not only am I lazy and preoccupied with shoving my face with summer food, but it has been hot and really fucking humid. I can deal with the heat, no problem. I'm cold unless it's above 85. But the humidity... man. I referred to running through hot clam chowder in my last post, and that weather trend has not let up. Walking to the train in the morning (about 5-7 minutes, downhill) leaves me sweating. Do I have a gym membership? Why, yes, I do. But when I'm sitting in my apartment sweating my ass off just by simply existing the last thing I want to do is pull on some tight spandex and hop on the train to the gym, or, even worse, go outside for a run.

3. I am too focused on the numbers.
I'm up 3 pounds from my average (5 pounds above my lowest), and when people hear me say that they immediately want to punch me in the face. Rightfully so, I suppose. My logical brain knows that three pounds isn't that much (though it's about 2.5% of my body weight), but my illogical brain doesn't like to see the number. My logical brain knows that my BMI and body fat are well within the healthy range, as I had my friend measure me last night, but my illogical brain is still like THREE POUNDS THAT'S WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU SIT ON YOUR ASS. The gain could also be muscle weight. I've been focusing on my upper body  more - I did five REAL pullups, all in a row, last night (oooooooh aaaaaaaaaaah) - and the increase in amount of running/hiking/cycling could definitely build muscle.

Ironically, I tend to ignore the "good" numbers. I started running at the end of January because I was that bored. I didn't really think about how much I would be running, so I picked a random number out of the air and decided "it would be kind of cool if I ran 100 miles in a year". I joined a gym in February, and hit that goal pretty quickly.  I'll recap my "good" numbers in an attempt to make myself feel better about life.

January: 6 miles (I started at the very end of January)
February: 12.23 miles - actually not that bad considering it was like 20 degrees for most of February and I was running outside.
March: 12.25 miles
April: 46.26 miles of running, 1.57 miles of biking
May: 30.1 miles of running
June: 20.33 mile of running, 40.42 mile of biking
** I didn't count hiking miles

So, it's obvious that I've definitely made improvements over the months but even as I was writing I said "damn, I ran HALF as much last month as I did in April." You can see the hotter the month the less I wanted to be inside at the gym or running outside in the humidity.

4. My routine changed.

Drinking on the beach is much more fun than running.

I think April was such a good month for me because I was getting into the swing of things at work, I got through my bout with mono at the end of March, and I had my routine down pat. I was working from 9-2, so I would get out at 2 and go to the gym on my way home. It was a good time frame; not too long after eating that I was starving but not too soon after eating that I was bursting at the seams. My schedule changed for the summer, so now I get out at 4. I was usually starting to get hungry and the gym would fill up with the after-work crowd. I started going home a lot more. I want to park my ass on the beach at every opportunity.

Then my schedule changed even MORE when I got my second job at REI (which I am very, very excited about, but more on that another time). I don't know what my schedule will end up being like, but for the past two days I've come to job # 1 from 11-4, then straight to training sessions until 8:30 or 9. So, either I wake up a few hours earlier and get a workout in or I skip it altogether. I have opted for the latter. The schedule change has meant adjusting my eating schedule, too. I have been hopping around from my apartment, to NH, to friend's places so often that I haven't really gone food shopping in a while, meaning I have no (healthy) food to cook and bring with me to work. Working through lunch and dinner often means eating something small, snacking all day, or waiting until I get home and eating late at night (sooo bad for you).


Well, hopefully once things settle down with my schedule a little more I'll get back into the routine of working out more frequently. If I can find it in myself to stop being a gypsy, or at least being a smarter gypsy, then I can stop eating out all the time and make myself some healthier meals. Let's face it, I'm not reaching my summer goal of hiking Mt. Washington by sitting on my ass eating cupcakes and drinking beer!... that would be nice, though.

Mt. Monadnock Revisited

First dance with Monadnock in March

The Monadnock's are like old friends to me. Pack Monadnock and North Pack Monadnock are quite literally the little siblings of Mt. Monadnock ("pack" is the Native American word for "little"). Pack Monadnock is the first mountain I hiked that renewed my love of the outdoors. North Pack Monadnock was  my first winter hike after my big "real hiker" purchase of micro-crampons. These two mountains were the last of my Wapack Trail traverse. They hold a special place in my heart. Their older sibling... well, we haven't had the best relationship.   Mt. Monadnock is the biggest of the three, and therefore inherently more challenging. I could always see Mt. Monadnock from the summits of the smaller two, and I had made it my goal to get up it. After getting a few good hikes under my belt and feeling my endurance increasing I decided I was ready. My homework turned up mixed reviews. Some people raved about hike, some bitched and moaned about how difficult it was. I realized I was in for a more serious climb when I read that a man had to be rescued from the mountain after breaking his leg about two weeks before I went. In short, it was miserable. It was a warm, clear day in late March. Most of the snow had melted in the surrounding area, but the trail still had a considerable amount of snow-oh wait-I mean slush. I was hiking through an Icee. Even worse, I realized when I got to there that I did not have my micro-crampons... or my hiking poles. Even worse, I didn't realize I was on day 1 of a respiratory infection... well, I did realize that I was getting sick but I refused to accept it. My descent was skiing without skis. Kurt the Hottie would have been horrified. Not only was I skiing without skis, but no boot is truly waterproof. I was walking on two slushie sponges.

Mt. Monadnock is one of the most hiked mountains in the world. I've seen some sites say most hiked, second most hiked, third most hiked.... so I'll just say it's in the top 5. To put it simply, it can be a zoo on a nice day. There's a mix of serious hikers, day-trippers, families, and idiots (more on that later). I have only been on the White Dot and White Cross trails (the two most popular and direct routes), but there are easily over 20 trails to the summit, as well as campsites and a park store. The trails I have been up are very rocky, which can make for a precarious trip. Any athletic person or hiker could get up no problem, but not without breaking a sweat. The mountain is the highest peak for 30 miles; "Monadnock" loosely translates to "mountain that stands alone". On a clear day you can see the Green Mountains in Vermont, Mount Washington, and the Boston skyline.

White Cross Trail

I felt great starting the trail. I could feel my workouts paying off, because my endurance was much better. The lack of a respiratory infection and 6 inches of slush helped, too. I was passing groups left and right. Go you! I thought.. then I realized many of these groups were families. Not that impressive. Then I passed a group of young men that didn't look like hikers but weren't necessarily out of shape. I was patting myself on the back for losing the group when one of the guys popped back into sight. He seemed to be trying to keep pace with me, but it wasn't long that I heard him huffing, puffing, and groaning. I don't think he was happy that he was being smoked by a girl.

My speed came to a slamming halt when I hit the rockier parts of the trail. The picture to the left is an example of what I mean. There is usually traffic on the steep, rocky areas, because people who didn't do their homework are tripped up by how strenuous it gets. I passed a lot of groups sitting down trying to catch their breath. Don't get me wrong, I was sweating. A couple that had been behind me up one particularly steep rock scramble kept saying "we must be getting close, it's not that far away." I didn't have the heart to tell them they weren't even halfway yet. This is where a lot of people turn around.

The trail levels out after several big, rocky, climbs and leads into a few false summits. The first half of this mountain is the most physically challenging, but the second half is more mentally challenging. The first time I hiked it I would round a corner thinking "okay, that has to be the summit" (it wasn't). It can be daunting to finally see the sizable summit, which is entirely above the tree line and all bare rock.

Summit of Mt. Monadnock

I had been leapfrogging a pack of pre-teen boys almost the entire way, and I got unreasonably frustrated when they disappeared from my sight. I passed them just as I was about to start the final push to the summit. They were all sitting there on their phones. It was immensely depressing. I wanted to shake them, and their dad, and say "LOOK AROUND YOU! IT IS AMAZING! PUT YOUR PHONE AWAY!" I made it my goal to reach the summit before them. They started off right after I passed by, so I was trying to tap into my "lightning pace" from earlier. All was going well until my body reminded me that I had barely stopped to rest and rehydrate on the way up, and it was about 75 degrees out. My need for water won out, and on my 30 second stop I realized it was a foolish goal. It wasn't a race. BUT - in my defense, they only beat me by about 30-60 seconds... and preteen boys have an inhuman amount of energy.

Conquered. 

There were good views at the summit, but the last time I was there it was much clearer. The wind chill made it feel about 10-20 degrees cooler, so I started looking for a sheltered area to enjoy my snack. The top was a little bit of a zoo. I greatly appreciate families being active together, but sometimes crazy, screaming kids take away from the serenity of a mountaintop. I gravitated towards two men that looked like "real hikers", and they invited me into their little alcove. I can be socially awkward at times, so I sat there silently envying their talks about hiking out west in preparation for Mt. Kilimanjaro. The older man said "I feel like I need to do it within the next few years or else I will never do it". A little smile crept across my face, because it's exactly how I feel about the AT. I took out my knee brace to prepare for my descent, which immediately sparked the interest of the older man. It turns out he was my kindred-knee-spirit, though probably 30 years my senior. We swapped injury stories; he had a brace on his left knee as well because he injured it walking down an aisle in Home Depot. "It's not the sexiest story to tell, so I just started making up lies." I breathed a sigh of relief. I was not the only one in the world that had messed up their knee in some stupidly mundane way, made up random, untrue stories as to how it happened, and continued to hike after the injury! Hurrah! I desperately wanted to keep talking to them, but they were heading back down the mountain and I still had a Gatorade to finish.

Descending the White Cross Trail

After about a half hour at the summit I began my descent with horrible flashbacks of me sliding on my ass through slush a few months earlier. The White Cross Trail promises to be less steep than the White Dot, so it's been my go-to trail. It may have be less steep, but it was still steep, rocky, muddy, and wet in many places. Although my muscles were slightly fatigued, I was able to keep a great pace and passed several groups on the way down. I caught up to kindred-knee-spirit man and his buddy, and for some reason it was ridiculously rewarding. They were planning a Kilimanjaro traverse and I was able to catch up to them!.... going down the mountain, but whatever. Right after passing them I felt a huge weight bear down on me. I realized I had to go back to Boston, back to work, back to life, that night. I had always thought an office life would be fine, but I'm realizing how much I don't want that. The thought of sitting inside at the computer for a good portion of my day was just so depressing.

I promised an explanation of the "idiots" on the trail, and I met two groups of them on my way down the mountain. Maybe "idiot" is a strong word. They were overly ambitious and definitely uninformed. The first group was an older couple struggling up a seemingly easy portion of the trail. It seems they had severely underestimated the difficulty of the hike, because the woman looked at me like she hated the fact I was in my 20s. I'm all for getting outside and exercising, but not doing your homework and getting so fatigued at the halfway point (really only 25% of the way) makes for a very dangerous descent. The second gang of uninformed people were wearing jeans, cotton shirts and sweatshirts (have fun swimming in your sweat), and what may have been running shoes at one point. Through their wheezing they asked me how far they had to go. I had to inform them they were not yet halfway. "Oh....." the guy said "....... okay", and then sullenly looked at his feet. You could make it up in running shoes, I wouldn't want to, but coming down would be miserable. Someone I will classify as a true idiot was the girl I saw in Converse back in March. My hiking boots didn't help much, I don't even want to know how she faired getting down. 

High-tech "hiking" poles I found at the dump. 

I'm glad I revisited this mountain. It may not be as grandiose or difficult as the 4,000 footers in the Presidential Range of the White Mountains, and it's certainly no Mt. Washington, but it's been a great stepping stone for me. It was a reminder that I still have a ways to go if I want to have any hope of the bigger mountains up north this summer. My total time was around 3 hours, including a half hour at the summit. Several websites say that the average hiking time is 3-4 hours, so I thought, "look at me! An average, dare I say even ABOVE AVERAGE, hiker!" I finished on a good note, unlike last time when I was exhausted and miserable, waved goodbye to kindred-knee-spirit man, and drove home with a smile on my face.

BRACE YOURSELVES.. or Maybe Not.

Before I even start this I have to say that I am not a licensed medical professional. Do not take my words as such. I have got to the point where I'm calling my doctors by numbers because there's too many of them for me to remember, though (I'm meeting # 10 tomorrow, an otolaryngoloist).

To brace or not to brace? That is the question. The jury seems to be out on whether or not braces help or hurt during physical activity, especially knee braces. But first, let me take you back to why my knees need bracing in the first place.

I was blessed with hideous bone structure in my knees (back and hips, too, thanks mom). Doing a lot of high-impact sports during my youth was not great for the 'ol joints. I have pretty prominent Osgood-Schlatter disease lumps under my knees that have been painful my entire life. I had to brace my knees on and off for years, especially during track, but overall I had no major problems...

How I feel anytime I recall this story

...until one fateful night at a club that I hated with all of my might. Okay, to be fair I didn't really hate this place at the time, but it's an after-hours club that is open until 6am. I often spent at least one weekend night there at a party my friends and boyfriend-at-the-time were running, meaning I was often there until some ungodly hour of the night (or morning, I suppose). I don't remember why, but I was asked to go get one of my friends who was DJing. I was about to open the the swinging door to the DJ booth when the owner of the club came bursting through. I tried to twist and get out of the way of the door quick enough for him to pass by without running me over. The next thing I knew I was on the floor literally seeing stars and trying not to pass out again. As I tried to piece together why exactly I was on the floor I realized I remember feeling a huge pop in my left knee, and the pain was coming back with a vengeance. Thankfully this took place in the lounge, so I was able to haul myself up onto a couch. I sat there writhing in pain for a few minutes, unable to get up and get help. I could already see my knee swelling through my pants. After a few minutes one of my friends passed by... I have no idea what I said but it was something along the lines that my knee was broken (it was not). I had always wondered why the bouncers had ignored me while I sat there grasping my knee, rocking back and forth, on the verge of passing out. It turns out they thought I was having a bad drug trip and I was trying to ride it out. A+ service, dudes.

Look at my insides. 

I went to the Massachusetts General Hospital ER. MGH is rated # 1 overall best hospital in the country, and # 4 best orthopedic hospital in the country, but somehow didn't have a knee brace or any pain killers to give me (NOT EVEN AN ADVIL). They said I dislocated my knee cap, gave me crutches, and sent me on my way. An orthopedist ordered a MRI thinking I had torn my ACL. The results came back, and his exact words were "Molly, you see the white stuff? That's not good." I had a small tear my in my mensicus, a partial dislocation of my kneecap, a strained MCL, and a sizable bone bruise. ALL FROM MOVING OUT OF THE WAY OF A DOOR. I hated the story so much that I started compulsively lying when people asked me what I had done. People that ask about your injury are typically doing so because they want to tell you their own story. "Are you a dancer? Because I had a knee injury when I danced." Why yes, I was a dancer. "Are you a runner? Looks like you did the same thing as I did!" Ah, yes, Molly the cross country runner. Whatever, all of it sounded better than "I got out of the way of a door a club."

I had weird tan lines for a while.

I spent that summer home in New Hampshire, which was great timing since getting around the city on Vicodin and crutches was not the most fun I've ever had. Thankfully surgery was not part of my recovery plan. My orthopedist thought I was young and healthy enough that the tear would mend on its own. I started my recovery with "Kurt The Hottie", a local physical therapist that my mom had seen for her own knee injury. Kurt The Hottie was a man shrouded in mystery. My mom always spoke affectionally about him, his "Hottie"-ness, and his kind disposition, yet no one ever met or even seen Kurt The Hottie. I almost fell out of my chair when I found out he was going to be my physical therapist. To clarify, he was a handsome and kind man who often brought me homemade popcorn to eat while he tortured me, but I wouldn't put him in the "hottie" category. My biggest hurdle in PT was simply getting my leg straight. My knee had been so swollen that I hadn't been able to straighten it for weeks, and my hamstring completely locked up. Getting a leg message for an hour sounds nice, but I promise you that I was pouring sweat and fighting the urge to punch Kurt The Hottie the entire time. Once my leg could straighten, he introduced me to Kinesiology Tape, or KT tape, and taped my knees (shown above) in ridiculous ways all summer. Despite looking like an idiot, KT tape did wonders for me. More on that later.

Once I was recovered enough he suggested a specialized brace for patellar subluxation and patellar tracking, my two biggest problems. I'm prone to knee injuries because the structure of my knee joint forces my kneecaps to track to the sides, not straight like a normal human being, which makes it very easy to dislocate, sprain, or tear something in my knee. Well, the brace cost me $80. Kurt The Hottie suggested buying another one for my right knee, since the same problem was just as likely to happen to that one. I decided to take my chances. In our next session he told me to leave my $80 knee brace off for my exercises that day, because "the jury's out on bracing, it can actually make your knee weaker." Kurt The Hottie, I thought, if you just had me spend $80 on a knee brace I don't need I will slap you.

Fast forward to today and I still have a significant amount of knee troubles. I can't fully straighten and lock my left leg without my kneecap popping, and that knee cracks about 25 times a day. My right knee is okay for now, but occasionally it riots against me and reminds me that I have the joints of a 90 year old. I'm terrified of injuring my right knee or re-injuring my left, so you can imagine my terror in skidding down rocky mountain trails.

It seems that there's two schools of thoughts on bracing. One is that it keeps everything where it should be, can prevent injury, and, in a case like mine, forces you to strengthen the appropriate muscles. The other is that braces limit your mobility and cause the muscles, tendons, and ligaments to essentially go to sleep since they don't have to work, eventually weakening the area. So what to do?

No one looks this good using this machine. She is a lie.

I've found what's best for me is to only use braces when I feel I really need it. I've worked a lot on strengthening my leg muscles, and I think it's really helped. I had my kneecap pop out of place while I was running recently and thankfully it immediately corrected itself. I attribute that to what I call the prostitute machine (pictured left). Why call it the prostitute machine, you ask? Because you spread your legs as far apart as possible and squeeze them together. Your goods are really out there on display unless you're wearing XL sweatpants. But the real point is that the inner thigh muscles are what hold my kneecap in place and prevent it from popping out to the side, and I think it's what saved me from another dislocation. I do almost all of my exercise without braces, but occasionally I do use them if I'm in pain. I have two full knee braces, the expensive one, and a knee strap that helps alleviate Osgood-Schlatter's pain.

Go, bionic knees, go!

The problem with braces and hiking is that they can get really uncomfortable really fast, especially if it's hot out. This is where KT Tape has come in really handy for me. I don't know KT Tape works, but it's been great for me, especially when I don't want to have a big bulky brace on in 80 degree heat. That being said, I never go out on the trail without at least one brace in my bag. I usually end up putting one or two on before the end of the trip. My rule of thumb is to put them on if I'm getting tired or descending. A huge number of injuries occur on the descent; you're often tired, going much faster, and sliding around more. One misstep can end in disaster. So, I strap on my "bionic knees" and hope for the best!

Bracing versus not bracing versus KT Tape versus a combination of all three is really up to the individual and their needs. I will always need some sort of extra support, but I've found that training without the braces has really helped. Brace or no brace, I'm ready for someone to just give me their knee joints and call it a day. Happy bracing, everyone!

A Useless Hobby

Hiking a useless hobby, really.

There's no tangible outcome with no audience. If you knit, you make a nice sweater. If you paint, you create a beautiful piece of art. If you sing, you entertain the crowd. If you hike, you walk around and spend hours climbing mountains. Maybe you get a nice picture and a story to tell every once in a while.

It's not that useful of a skill. Anyone can walk. Anyone can walk up a mountain, given enough time. It does not require a natural ability. Some people will say that you can become a great dancer with enough practice, but I promise you there is a natural talent and ability that makes someone a graceful dancer and some people will never have that (me included).

Hiking is often hard, sometimes dangerous, sometimes uncomfortable, sometimes boring. It leaves you sore, tired, blistered, and chaffed. A nice day can turn into a storm in an instant at higher elevations and can leave you drenched from head to toe. A huge range of plants and animals can, at the very least, give you a scare, and at the very worst, kill you. You often have to pee in the woods.

So why the hell do it?

I grew in up Southern New Hampshire, so naturally I was surrounded by the woods. I loved the outdoors as a kid, but in high school I was too consumed by teenage angst to care much about anything else. My ailing body is a running joke among my friends and family. I tore my meniscus and partially dislocated my kneecap two years ago by simply getting out of the way of an opening door. A month on crutches and 6 weeks of physical therapy was only the beginning. It took a year before I was fully healed.

After weeks of discomfort in my lower back I had another MRI and found out I had a bulging disc pressing up against my spine. I had a epidural cortisone injection in my spine and went back to physical therapy. In this round of physical therapy I found out I have mild scoliosis and a bone deformity in my hip that makes my left leg longer than my right; basically, I have been off balance for 22 years.

"I'm back!"

I didn't get back into hiking until last summer when I went out with two friends of mine. It was a small mountain, but getting to the top of it was extremely rewarding. I felt like I was finally back to normalcy (though I will forever need braces and PT), like I was strong and able. Anyone who has had an injury that takes a long time to heal knows what I mean. I saw the much larger Mount Monadnock from the summit of Pack Monadnock and set my sights there. It didn't take long to reach that goal, and my love for the outdoors has been reignited ever since.

So, why hike? Well, for me it provides a chance to detach from life while appreciating it at the same time. How often do you appreciate a really pretty tree? A nice view? A giant boulder in the middle of the woods? I've lived in Boston for the past 5 years, and as much as I love the city part of my heart is still in the woods of New Hampshire. Life in a city can get pretty monotonous, hectic, and suffocating at times. Getting out on a mountain is quite literally a breath of fresh air. It's a chance to sign offline, even if just for a few hours, and be blissfully detached. The miles of blood, sweat, and (figurative) tears are worth the view at the top. A lot of people do their best thinking in the shower, I do some of my best thinking trekking through the woods. Though I am no super-hiker, my experiences hiking in the past year have pushed my limits and showed me that I am capable of being a little tough. In a time when my life is up in the air, student loans are looming over my head, the pressure to get a job and make money is more significant than ever, my personal life isn't always steady, etc., climbing a mountain is something I CAN accomplish.

Welcome to my misadventures on mountains.